This Is Nothing Like Jealousy
by LouRose87
Summary: "You know…." He said as he sat down, ever careful of his tea, "That Agent Taylor is a fascinating woman."


**Title: **This Is Nothing Like Jealousy

**Summary: **"You know…." He said as he sat down, ever careful of his tea, "That Agent Taylor is a fascinating woman."

**A/N: **I would just like to thank everyone who has commented on my first ever (yes, that's right, _first_ _ever_) Mentalist fic called "Tell Her" (and yes, that was a shameless plug) I am really, genuinely touched that someone apart from just me thought it was even half decent. I am actually planning a few more stories in that "universe" so keep your eyes peeled (or something equally corny) Thank you again – each review has made me smile upon reading it.

**Disclaimer: **The Mentalist isn't mine. If only.

x

It hadn't irritated her the first time. She had become used to it over the years; women seemed to gravitate to him and in the blink of an eye, they would be fawning and laughing and tossing their hair behind their shoulders with exaggerated smiles. Even before _them_, even when she had harboured feelings that she dare not give a name to (let alone ponder on her own in her apartment, late at night with too much whisky and loneliness) she let go any minor annoyance with the female agents who should have known better. They would usually corner him in the CBI kitchen and she would watch him covertly; he would politely engage in conversation (all charm with a hint of shyness) smile when it was expected and without being too obvious, desperately try to make his tea. A smirk often rose on her lips when she saw his relieved expression after escaping their clutches (sacred cup of tea in hand) and he would retreat to the safety of his beloved couch as though he was lucky to be out alive.

It had bothered her significantly more recently.

She was fully aware that their relationship (it still felt so strange to her to think of them as anything other than friends or, at least, their less-than-typical-version of friends) was not common knowledge through her own choice and that, if left to him, the entire staff of the FBI internationally would probably know that they were more than co-workers in under twenty minutes. However, her logic didn't make her feel any less perturbed (she refused to call her emotions anything near jealousy) that Agent Taylor, a perky blonde financial crime assistant, was currently lurking around Jane, ostensibly making coffee but seemingly more interested in making conversation with the consultant as it certainly did not take ten minutes to make a coffee – and she should know.

Her gaze flickered from her computer screen (quite what she was supposed to be doing had been forgotten with the appearance of Agent Taylor in the kitchen, slightly too close to Jane) and then back to the kitchen and then her eyes shot back to her irritating computer screen, where a blank page confronted her in place of where her overdue report was supposed to be.

After what felt like far too long for one simple cup of tea and coffee to be brewed (and why wasn't she using her department's own kitchen? The finance guys were two floors above their own) Jane sauntered from the kitchen with Agent Taylor following shortly afterwards, each giving a brief wave to the other as they parted.

Lisbon watched him as furtively as possible from her desk as he returned to the comfort of his couch, his face beaming. "You know…." He said as he sat down, ever careful of his tea, "That Agent Taylor is a fascinating woman."

"Huh?" She asked, feigning interest in her report, typing a few words and then deleting them.

"Agent Taylor." He repeated, "She's incredibly interesting." He paused, taking a sip of tea and Lisbon quirked her eyebrow in response to his declaration.

"How so?" Her eyes remained affixed to the screen and she brought up an old report to skim read as if it might provoke some inspiration. She told herself she was tired and somewhat lacking in caffeine intake (which would need to be remedied soon or she would be found face down on the keyboard at 5pm, asleep and probably muttering something embarrassing) and that those two factors were the only reason for the present difficulty in typing any sentence that made any sort of sense. Definitely nothing to do with Agent Taylor, all tanned and blonde and tall.

"She used to be a professional violinist." Jane sounded impressed and she immediately felt her hackles rise. "She still plays occasionally – she was actually in the orchestra for that performance of Beethoven I wanted to see last month." Lisbon caught the pronoun he used and felt a prick of disappointment in herself for her lack of enthusiasm in some of the interests he so enjoyed; she had been so tired that night after a tough, draining case and all she wanted were some beers, her couch and _him_ – classical music wasn't her idea of a good evening, exhausted or not. She'd spotted the tickets in the trash the next morning as she made breakfast.

"Wow, she sounds _great_." She knew her voice dripped with sarcasm but Jane didn't seem to register the laconic tone.

"I know." He replied, and she was fully aware he was smiling even though she was studiously avoiding looking anywhere but at her computer screen. "She was telling me about that production of Uncle Vanya at the Robertson Theatre. She's a member there so she was going to get some tickets…."

He stopped speaking as Lisbon swirled around in her chair to face him – her brain (her rational, non-Jane related side) told her to keep it together, that men and women could be friends without _that_ getting in the way and she was overreacting like an envious teenager, jealous of the popular cheerleader hitting on her boyfriend. "What?"

"Tickets." Jane repeated as though she were temporarily deaf and had failed to hear the first time. "For the theatre."

"I know what you said." Her voice was laced with irritation and she was half tempted to mutter "idiot" at him before the rational side reminded her that maybe she was being the idiotic one.

"So what's the glare for?"

She sighed and the words came out before she could even think of stopping them. "Agent Taylor was flirting with you."

"And?" He replied as though he had just told her the weather forecast.

"She was flirting with you." Lisbon said again, giving him a quizzical look and she paused before continuing. "Can you not see where I'm going with this?"

His forehead knitted in confusion. "Not really."

"A woman that was clearly flirting with you is inviting you to the theatre." For someone who was incredibly intuitive, Jane could really be blind sometimes. "You can't be completely unaware of what she's hoping might happen."

"Well….." He started, leaning forward in his seat, "Firstly, the tickets weren't for me and Taylor; she offered them for me and a guest because she thought I would like it. Secondly, she's sleeping with some head honcho in IT which she thinks no-one knows about. And thirdly….." He beckoned her to scoot forward on her chair which she duly did, though somewhat reluctantly, and he leant forward, their cheeks tantalisingly close and his lips almost brushing her ear, "…she's not you." He pulled away just in time to see a smirk rise on her face, however unwilling it's appearance was. He moved to lean down on the couch, regaining his cup of tea in his hand. "You've never been this obviously bothered before."

"Things are different now." She muttered and frowned, "And how do you know I was bothered before? I wasn't."

She had lied – they both knew it but Patrick chose to overlook it (she almost said a little prayer for that). "Look, every woman in this building could throw themselves at my feet and it wouldn't make a difference." He grinned at her, "I'm kind of a one woman man."

She couldn't help the smile that crept onto her face; _she_ was that woman. "Same." She stopped, "But…. not a woman. I meant a man...not the woman part…" She paused, "You know what I mean."

"Yeah…" He gave her that grin which only seemed to appear in response to her. She felt like she owned that smile – that wasn't for anyone else, ever again. "You know….." He started after a beat, "…there is something that might help avoid that sort of scenario in future. Given how _uncomfortable_ it made you." He used little air quotes and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him.

"I was not uncomfortable." She clarified and she rolled her office chair slightly closer to his couch, "I'm just not thrilled at seeing randomly attractive women practically forming a queue to flirt with my boyfriend." A lovely warm feeling resided in her at how easily the word "boyfriend" emanated from her lips.

"Like I said, there is a simple resolution to all of this."

She waited for him to continue. He didn't. "Which would be…..?"

"If we were a bit more _open_…." There were those stupid air quotes again, she thought uncharitably. "…then both of us might not have to see the flirting with boyfriend-slash-girlfriend."

"What's that supposed to _mean_?" She used the air quote movement and he was well aware she was mocking him.

"I'm not blind Lisbon. I know those guys from IT do not need to keep coming and checking your computer…."

"They think there might be something wrong with it!" Her eyes widened as High Voice Lisbon made an appearance.

"Uh huh." He didn't sound convinced and secretly, she hoped they were coming up to flirt with her. Not only did it make her feel better in the face of the likes of statuesque Agent Taylor but it gave Jane a taste. "Anyway…if people knew we were seeing each other….." He was about to use the air quotes again before she batted down his hand and gave him the almost patented "You're An Idiot Look" that she did so well, "….they might not be so blatant in their attempts at flirtation."

She sighed; the personal, emotional side of her agreed with him – half the women who'd sidled up next to him would probably be aghast to know that they were flirting with a man who was in a long-term committed relationship (Lisbon was pretty sure that they were long-term, even if they hadn't said it in so many words) but the professional Lisbon recoiled in horror that another relationship would be the subject of office gossip. "I'm just not sure that I want our relationship becoming public property."

Lisbon tried to ignore the flicker of disappointment she saw rush over his face and then quickly fade. It tore at her because she knew that underneath it all, he feared that she was ashamed in some way, embarrassed of being with him and that keeping it private meant it was easier to get out when the going got tough. "It's fine." He replied after a second of hesitation. He gestured to her computer, "Want to start doing that report so we can get out of here at a reasonable hour?"

She nodded and swung back to her desk, the words coming slightly easier to her mind, though she couldn't help but notice his reflection in the monitor screen, a look of resignation that she had put there.

X

Her fingers had ended up flying over the keyboard when she realised that it was Friday – days had a tendency to merge together in law enforcement but it had been so quiet recently (criminals seemingly holding off on their nefarious endeavours whilst the weather was blissfully warm) that she was anticipating a quiet, non-murder-investigating weekend.

"You ready?" She switched off her screen and watched it fade to black. She turned round to see him rousing himself from the couch.

"Been ready for the last, oh…." He checked his watch, "….five hours."

"I can't leave at midday." She said in a matter of fact tone, "Apparently, they kind of frown on that."

"Meh." He dismissed it with a smile and they walked to the elevator, his hand resting on the small of her back as it always had done, even _before_.

They waited in companionable silence for the elevator to reach them, stepping into the empty box. They turned to stand to face the opening doors as they closed and she took a step closer to him, their arms brushing as they remained facing forward, side by side, but closer, too close for merely co-workers at least. "I'm not embarrassed of this if that's what your thinking." She said quietly, her voice so low that he almost missed her words.

"I know." He replied simply, nudging her slightly with his arm. "I understand."

She pursed her lips, unsure of what to say, how to make it better; she had never been good with expressing herself. So she kissed him. A brief, light kiss; their lips brushed so quickly and it was over in a moment. She returned to her position, facing the front of the elevator carriage. "I love you."

"Love you too." He replied with a satisfied grin, just as the elevator doors pinged open to face the FBI lobby. They exited together, almost co-ordinated in their movements until she stopped dead in her tracks. "You okay?"

"Forgot my cell…." She muttered and before he could verbalise an argument that she couldn't possibly need it over the weekend, she continued, "I will be two minutes." She started to walk away across the overly shiny FBI floor, resisting the urge to sprint to the elevator, grab her cell phone and get the hell out to show Jane just how much she loved him.

"I'll be counting."

She grinned despite herself.

X

It had taken more than two minutes.

Thankfully, Agent Hopper from Cyber Crime had noticed her frequent glances at the wall clock and had decided that he would probably garner more of her attention when it wasn't a beautifully sun-drenched Friday evening at 5.15pm. She returned back down to the FBI lobby, her eyes scanning the foyer and she saw him lingering at the reception disk where the sign in logs were administered by a currently giggling receptionist, looking up at Jane from her desk with a look akin to a teenager with a crush on the captain of the football team. She rolled her eyes to herself and made her way to retrieve him from a girl who looked half his age and was probably (actually, yes, _definitely_) blushing.

"Hey." He greeted her, his whole face seemed to light up at her reappearance – that would certainly win him a few points later, she thought with an inner smile. She conceded that he probably had the same effect on her – everything was just _better_ when he was there, irritating her, then making her laugh or giving her That Look (which he'd admitted late at night once - in each other's arms, laughing and being unable to sleep because they were just _happy_ \- that it was usually because he was imagining her with no clothes on)

"Hey." She showed the cell phone that was currently in her grasp, "Got it."

"Great." He moved from leaning on the high reception desk with an elbow to stand upright.

"Ready for home?" She asked and the receptionist stopped typing, deciding to look intently at the screen. Lisbon could practically see the wheels turning in the young woman's brain.

There was a beat before he replied, "Er…yeah…" Jane covered his confusion at her hint that they were leaving together for home, _their_ home, _together_. They turned to head towards the door and she sidled up close to him, their arms brushing and she moved her hand to his, linking their fingers together loosely. It was subtle; they were walking so closely and the gesture was significantly covered by their suit jackets and proximity to each other. But she could feel the eyes of the receptionist, a notorious gossip, on them along with several of the other agents milling around the lobby.

She felt his squeeze him squeeze in reassurance and she smiled, her head high as they strolled out the building together, hand in hand.

"You didn't have to do that you know…" He began as they finally reached the doors and the relative privacy of the office car park.

"I know." She replied, "And before you say anything, it's not because I'm jealous…." Lisbon paused as they reached the car, "It's because I love you and this is real. For me. And this is me saying that."

He kissed her. And the whole world felt right.

"You know…." He said as they moved to get in her car, "I think my ears are burning already."

She grinned widely as she looked at him.

She really, really didn't care.

X


End file.
